Screams internal,
soon become echoes,
eternally drilling
into your skull,
a shrill siren song pull.
Shattering mirrors and glass.
Overhead, thunderclouds of hurt amass,
as the twinkling sound
of cracking bottles and flasks
erupts into a cacophonous roar,
like an elongated nuclear war
being fought.
all had turned to dust
and in the bomb blast
hope was caught.
Farewell,
he says to no-one.
The room empty,
hope long gone.
The lights dulled.
Over the loss he mulled
and deep into reflection
his heart is pulled.
Jagged reminders,
cracked mind
of the writer.
Slivers cut ribbons into
already torn fingers.
Uneven, sharp pieces,
Knife edged hope
always decreases.
With one final bow,
the cast had departed.
Alone now.
Hope
was for the wholehearted.
His heart lay scattered,
in fragments shattered
randomly over the carpet,
the clouds over his eyes parted
and the rains fell,
icy shards of hope discarded.
With a wave
and a sorrowful sigh
he said goodbye.
Icicle tears
falling from his eyes,
smashing into the ground,
shattered hope
lays all around.
Thanks for reading
Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"
100+ all new poems not shared here before.
https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages
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